


the tissue will make us hard; and the tears wash us anew

by burrsir



Series: Shalluratt Week 2017 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Matt has a prosthetic leg, Multi, Scars, Shalluratt Week 2017, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 05:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10404564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burrsir/pseuds/burrsir
Summary: They've all got their scars, but sometimes Allura wishes their skin didn't have to be as hard as it isFor Shalluratt Week 2017Day Two: scars/healing





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Daveed Diggs' "Breathe"
> 
> Day two! Happy Shalluratt Week!
> 
> Not beta read, all mistakes are my own. I'm sorry I really love commas and don't know how to use dashes properly.

Allura didn’t always sleep well at night. 

Since she had started sharing a bed with Shiro and Matt, she had learned that Alteans apparently did not need as much sleep as humans, and as such often found herself the only one awake at the earliest vargas of the morning. She appreciated the excuse to stay in the warmth of their blankets longer, and would wriggle herself closer to her boys so she could be there for them when they woke up. It didn’t matter that Shiro snored, or that Matt would mumble incoherently and occasionally kick. Being near them always helped to relax her.

Tonight, however, was not like that.

Her eyes shot open in the dead of night, long before anyone else in the Castle would be up and about. She didn’t jolt, but her body was frozen and rigid. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, could practically hear her own pulse, it was so loud. The memories of the nightmare that had awoken her were already fleeting. She tried and struggled to hold on to them to remember what it was that had disturbed her so much, but the images passed through her proverbial fingers like dissipating smoke. The only thing she retained from the dream was an overwhelming urge to _protect_ her boyfriends.

As her heart rate began to slow to a normal pace, she moved into a sitting position, careful not to disturb her bedmates. She pushed loose and messy tangles of hair out of her face, and peeled it off her neck where it had been stuck from sweat. She took a deep breath, then let it out.There was a pang in her chest, and a pressing, urging emotion welled up inside her. The next breath she took was shakier than it should have been.

She laid back down and turned to her side, where Matt was nestled in between her and Shiro. His face was soft; he always looked younger without his glasses. Even the two scarred over claw marks across his cheek seemed less pronounced in his sleep. Gently, so as not to wake him, she reached her hand out and ghosted her fingers across them.

She hadn’t been there when he’d gotten them, and he had never given them the full story as to how it happened. He would always brush it off as having gotten them sometime while he was with the rebels, and neither she nor Shiro would push him. They began about halfway up his right cheek, and grew thicker and deeper until it hit the curve of his jaw where it had nicked into the bone, and faded out a few inches down his throat. She knew what they felt like when she’d cup his jaw in a kiss, coarse under her fingertips. She knew how it felt when he’d nuzzle his face into her hair, when the rougher texture of the scar tissue would catch against it differently.

He didn’t wake, but at her touch he wriggled himself closer to her. He shifted off of his side and onto his back, brushing his left leg up against hers. His left was his prosthetic, recently upgraded from the messy quick-fix he’d gotten with the rebels to a more high-tech option (courtesy of Pidge and Hunk) similar to Shiro’s arm. It attached to his leg just above the knee, and she knew that the flesh of his thigh just above it was mangled by a thick, deep scar. When he had been injured, the skin had been sewn back together quickly and unprofessionally, making his scar larger and more pronounced than it could have been. Her hand was on his thigh, at the juncture where metal met flesh, and she delicately ran her thumb over the scar. When they ended up in cuddle piles, Shiro’s head in Matt’s lap, he’d often leave gentle kisses over the scar and mumble apologies for having caused the initial injury that had eventually lead to the amputation. It didn’t matter how many times Matt would tell him he didn’t blame him, and that things were okay. Allura knew he was working on it, but the amount of guilt Shiro felt was still immense.

With Matt having moved closer to her, the tiny gap between him and Shiro had grown cold, causing Shiro to snuggle up to them too. He nuzzled his face against Matt’s hair, and threw his right arm across him, his fingertips gently brushing Allura’s stomach. With the three of them all sleeping in the same bed, the nights were warm enough that he had worn a tanktop to bed, exposing the scarred skin of his right shoulder.

Allura moved her hand from Matt’s thigh and slowly ghosted her fingers up Shiro’s metal arm until she came to the scars. She rested her hand there, studying the way the scars felt under her palm. He had stopped trying to catalogue his scars a long time ago, having lost track of which ones were from the gladiator arena and which ones were from his years with Voltron. Allura always noticed when he got a new one, though. There were some things a healing pod couldn’t quite fix entirely, and guilt raked through her with each new mark on his skin.

While she had her fair share of action, for the most part, she still remained relatively safe inside the Castle while he and the other Paladins were the ones in the thick of battle. Each and every time she heard him cry out from a hit over the coms, and each and every time he had to visit the medbay, Allura wished she could take his place. She trusted him, and she knew how capable he was, but she ached to be able to take some of the pain from him. He had suffered enough.

They all had suffered enough.

At times like this, though, where his brow was smooth and creaseless, and the tension had melted from his shoulders, she liked to try to forget all that they had been through, even if just for a moment. She tried to soak up the serenity Shiro’s and Matt’s sleeping and content faces, to imagine that they were far in the future with no war, no more pain, where they could be safe and happy, together. That day would come, she told herself. Soon. But until then, they had to weather a bit more.

She hadn’t realized it, but her hand had trailed up to Shiro’s cheek, where her thumb was gently stroking across the edge of the scar on his nose. Of all of his scars, that was the one she was most curious about. There was no way he had gotten it in battle - it was too shallow. He said he had no memory of it, and she believed him. Perhaps it was better if neither of them knew.

A long sigh from Shiro pulled her out of her thoughts. She could feel him stirring, but didn’t move her hand from his cheek. “Someone’s up rather early,” he muttered, his voice still gravelly from sleep. He slowly dragged his eyes open to meet hers, his lips twitching in a tiny smile.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, keeping her voice low to not disturb Matt between them.

Shiro hummed in acknowledgement. “Is there something on your mind?”

“No, I, um, had a nightmare.”

His eyebrows drew together, concerned. She wished she hadn’t told him. Both he and Matt had plenty of nightmares themselves, she didn’t need to worry him. (She tried not to remind herself that he probably felt the same way when he had nightmares).

“Oh,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure I could if I wanted to. I don’t remember it, really.”

There was movement between them, and Matt let out a yawn. “Is everything okay? Why’re we all up?”

“It’s okay, Matt,” Allura said, her voice fond. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Nah,” he twisted, trying to stretch his limbs while still snug between his partners. “If you guys are awake, I want to be awake, too. Seriously though, is everyone alright?”

Allura lifted her gaze from Matt to meet Shiro’s soft expression across from her. Their hands had dropped from his cheek and rested on Matt’s chest, where he had reached one of his up to tangle his fingers with theirs. She couldn’t help it when her eyes flickered the the scar on Shiro’s nose or the ones on Matt’s cheek. That emotion was burning inside her again, to wrap them in her arms and shield them from the cruelty life threw at them. They were still so young, she realized. They all were. Their skin shouldn’t have to be as hard as it is.

But it was, she realized. And hers was too. They all had their scars, but their scars weren’t marks of failure. A scar means you _survived_. The universe had thrown everything it had at them, time and time again, but still, they were strong enough to make it through, to be able to sleep, happy and content, with the people they loved.

As strong as her drive to protect them was, she could see the same fire burning in their eyes. Their gazes were gentle and comforting, but she the set of their brows told her that they would do anything in their power to keep her safe, too. The feeling in the pit of her stomach dissipated, and began to spread out into a warm confidence.

“Everything is fine,” she said, giving their joined hands a squeeze.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Come yell at me about these space nerds on tumblr  
> [main](http://theryanreynoldspamphlet.tumblr.com) | [voltron blog](http://cinnamonrollshiro.tumblr.com)


End file.
